


Stake Me Out

by Friday_25



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Undercover lovers, Unresolved Romantic Tension, fave trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friday_25/pseuds/Friday_25
Summary: Post Career of Evil. Robin joins Strike on a stakeout to avoid problems at home.





	Stake Me Out

'I did tell you you didn't need to come with me on this,' Strike reminded Robin, noticing her checking her watch for the third time that evening. Though he was secretly glad of her company on what promised to be a tedious stakeout, he had tried to dissuade her from joining him. His fondness for her continued to discomfit him and he still felt it was safer to avoid spending time alone with her outside the office.

Robin had been quite insistent, however, and had pointed out that it would be easier to conduct the stakeout from a vehicle and he would have to hire one if he went by himself. Not having an argument against this very sensible suggestion, Strike had been forced to agree. This had led them here: sitting in the dark back-seat of Robin's old Land Rover in a deserted  car park, sharing a packet of biscuits.

'Oh, no it's not that,' Robin replied, dragging a hand through her golden hair and absent-mindedly toying with a few strands, 'I just keep thinking- shouldn't they be here by now?'

Their most recent client was a concerned mother who believed her son had started hanging around with and gang of older lads who were rumoured to be involved in selling drugs. Her son was denying any contact with the boys and local police had fobbed her off. 'They won't get involved with school kids while it's all hearsay,' Strike had explained, 'they don't want a load of angry parents complaining if it all turns out to be jumped up.' He had agreed to take on the case, the aim being to get evidence with which the client could confront her son, and which she could also pass on to the police.

 Strike glanced at his phone. 'Can't be much longer, his mum texted an hour ago now to say he'd gone out. If she's right about the location, they'll be along soon, we'll get a few snaps, and then we can get out of here. You'll be home by eleven,' Strike assured Robin.

'Oh, believe me, I'm in no hurry,' said Robin, twisting the empty biscuit packet between her hands and then huffily brushing the resulting crumbs off her lap into the footwell.

'Everything okay at home?' Strike asked with trepidation. He normally avoided asking Robin directly about her life with Matthew, partly in an effort to maintain professional boundaries, and partly because he did not trust himself to speak on the subject. He had noticed lately, however, that phone calls from Matthew (conducted, at Robin's end, in hushed, angry tones) were succeeded by strained silence in their shared office, and that the waste paper bin by Robin's desk was more than usually full of chocolate bar wrappers and tissues.

Robin took a deep breath and let it out in a harsh sigh. 'Matthew and I have decided to take a break.'

Strike kept his expression neutral. 'What does that mean, exactly?'

'It means,' replied Robin, looking down at her hands, 'that we're not together at the moment.' She twisted the rings on her left hand. 'But we might still- well, we're going to see how we feel in a month or so, but then we might get back together,' she finished.

_Is that what you want?_ Strike wanted to ask, but didn't dare. He settled for 'Has Matthew moved out then?'

'No, he's just sleeping on the sofa!' Robin huffed, clearly frustrated. 'I can't get any space from him. And he still keeps texting me all the time.'

It was obvious now why Robin had been so keen to come along for the stakeout.

'Yeah that's...not what you want,' Strike replied, somewhat lamely. He wanted to just tell her she'd be better of making a clean break from Matthew, moving out herself. He thought wildly of suggesting that she stay with him until she found a place of her own, but he knew this would be crossing a line.

Thankfully, he was saved the effort of making any further comment on this dangerous topic by the arrival in the car park of a group of five boys on bikes. They were only a few streetlamps away from the Land Rover when they dismounted and although they all had their hoods up, the shortest lad's clothes matched the client's description of what her son was wearing when he had left the house an hour or so earlier.

Robin and Strike both instinctively sank a little lower in their seats as they watched. Another two boys were approaching on foot, looking nervously around as they joined the others and exchanged muttered greetings, keeping their voices low. The youths were on Robin's side of the car and she slowly reached for the camera, lifting it to the bottom edge of the car window. She got a wide shot of the group, clearly showing their client's son staying at the edge of the group, looking anxious.

'We need to see drugs, and we need to see faces,' Strike murmured, leaning over so he could see what she was seeing.

'I know!' She hissed back, a little annoyed. He chuckled softly at her defensiveness, holding his hands up in mock surrender. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she turned her eyes back to the viewfinder.

'Oh God,' Robin whispered, suddenly. The deal apparently done, the first group of boys were picking up their bikes as if to leave, when one of them had gestured over to the car and he and another of the gang made towards them. Robin shoved the camera down into the footwell and covered it quickly with her jacket.

'Shit,' said Strike, 'sorry about this.' Hoping Robin would forgive him later, he dived on top of her, burying one hand in her red-gold hair, the other finding the crook of her knee and yanking her leg up around him. She responded enthusiastically, her hands on the back of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss which he was forced to break almost immediately as the door of the Land Rover opened and he squinted up into the surprised faces of the two lads who had come to investigate. Robin gasped in apparent mortification and then dissolved into girlish giggles.

'Oi, do you mind?' Strike said gruffly, reaching over to the inside handle of the door and pulling it firmly shut again.

'Wahey sorry mate!' One of the boys called, as he and his friend returned to their bikes, laughing stupidly. Strike and Robin held their breath for a few seconds before they heard another peal of laughter echo around the car park as the joke was shared with the rest of the group. Whooping and catcalling, the boys rode off into the night and the car park became silent and still.

Strike was now acutely aware of Robin's body beneath him. He had, for some reason, replaced his hand on the back of her thigh after pulling the car door closed. His other hand was still tangled in her hair, cradling her head. He felt almost afraid to move but was also aware that the longer he remained where he was, the more awkward the situation would become. He chanced a glance down at Robin. She grinned back at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

 'Do you think they bought it?' Robin asked, starting to giggle for real now. Strike felt himself shiver slightly in response to the vibration of her body against his.

'Definitely,' he replied, 'you were very convincing.' She coloured a little at these words. Moving swiftly on, he said: 'I just figured if they were too suspicious they might flush their stash before we had a chance to tip off the police. Did you get the shots we needed?'

Robin flashed a cheeky smile. 'Of course I did!'

'Never doubted you,' he said, winking. With a slight reluctance he lifted himself up, at the same time helping Robin back into a seated position. Still smiling, she scooped up her jacket and tossed the camera into his lap before swapping to the driver's seat of the old Land Rover.

As the car moved off, Robin caught Strike's eye in the rear-view mirror.

'This was fun.'

Strike returned her smile in the mirror but made no reply. His mouth still tingled where her lips had been.

**Author's Note:**

> A trope we all know and love! Still thinking through the next (last?) chapter of my other fic but this idea came to me and I wanted to get it down.


End file.
